DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Doctor Who or the Chronicles of Narnia. I own this plot only, and any OCs. My depictions of real life characters are based on stereotypes or suppositions and no insult is intended. I have no desire to own the series this story is based on, although if anyone could give me either a wand, TARDIS or wardrobe portal into Narnia I certainly wouldn't say no.

IMPORTANT: This is a rewrite of my story, You Are Not Alone and, as such, any resemblence to that story is intentional. No offence is meant by my portrayal of the Royal Family. I have the utmost of respect for Her Majesty the Queen and her wider family.

Author's Note: A thousand apologies for the long break between posts, university has taken a priority at the moment. This chapter is a plot bunny from watching SBS during the Tour de France, and ads for The World Game.

UPDATE (25/10/2012): French translation fixed.

From Chapter 18...

Harry and Lucy returned to Harry's TARDIS and were joined by the Doctor for a summer holiday, and after Harry agreed, the Doctor put the TARDIS on random (more fun that way) and the TARDIS took flight towards its destination...

Chapter Nineteen: Summer Part 3 - Football is Bigger...

'Christmas Day, 1914. After months fighting in freezing conditions on the Western Front, a group of German and Allied soldiers put down their weapons and did something that no one would have ever expected... They picked up a football. According to soldiers' letters, the Germans won the match 3-2.' SBS Television, The World Game, "Football is Bigger..." ad campaign

Location: Behind British Lines, Villers-Bretonneux, Somme, Picardie, France, Earth
Time: December 1914 CE

...before landing with a thump. The door of the applewood wardrobe creaked open, an ominous silence filling the air for a moment as Harry nearly fell flat as he stepped out of the TARDIS straight into the midst of a field of thick mud, finding that the silence was rapidly replaced by the deafening roar of cannon, machine gun and rifle fire filling the air, and his nose was assaulted by the unmistakeable smell of death. As he continued to struggle forward a few steps, he was soon joined by Lucy and the Doctor, the latter looking around concerned as he realised just where they were. 'We need to get out...' he started, but was cut off by a loud authoritative voice from somewhere below them.

'You three(!), get down here! The truce hasn't started yet.' A British officer yelled from down in a trench a few metres in front of them. Not even stopping to think, they slid down the muddy side of the trench and joined the officer below ground level.

'Who are you and what were you doing up there in plain view of the Hun?' The officer asked angrily.

'Play along with whatever the Doctor says!' Harry told Lucy mentally, feeling her send a mental nod in reply.

'Major James MacCrimmon!' The Doctor said, effecting a Scottish accent. 'British Army Intelligence. I found these two French kids, brother and sister I'd say, running around about 80 yards behind the lines. Guess I got disoriented and started heading the wrong way. Been at the front too long.' The Doctor explained, lying flawlessly.

'You boy! What is your name?' The stern officer turned to Harry and Lucy, who made a show of recoiling and burying her head into her "brother's" shoulder.

Harry also made a show of acting timid, putting on a French accent. 'I am Pierre, and this is my seester Sophie.' Harry said, playing at comforting his "sister".

'What were you doing so close to the front lines?' The officer continued gruffly.

Lucy played the role to a tee, remembering back to her French lessons at St. Finbar's, waving her arms expansively. 'Soldat Monsieur! Nous avons eu une aventure grande!'

'A great adventure, eh? I'll tell you now, Miss Sophie, there is no adventure in war! I once thought there was, but now I know that such thinking is a folly.'

The Doctor now took his turn to speak up again, taking note of the officer's rank. 'Tell me Captain, what truce do you speak of, I know of no truce upcoming.'

'Locally organised truce, sir. Jerry captain and I spoke and agreed to a truce to bury our fallen comrades in No Man's Land, part of the spirit of Christmas and all that.' The officer informed them as the guns fell silent at the appointed hour, and all across the lines of trenches, Germans and Britons alike put down their rifles and entered No Man's Land, carefully lifting the broken bodies of their comrades and taking them away to be buried.

As the truce rolled onwards and all the bodies were taken away for proper burials, the enemy combatants soon got to be talking, and in a surprising show of kindness in the fog of war, soldiers were soon swapping small, inconsequential gifts, trading tinned meat for cigarettes, swapping soup for paper to write home.

For Harry and the Doctor, and Lucy (who lived during World War II) especially, it was astonishing to see these men, who not two hours ago were hailing each other with bullets were now chatting amicably in the middle of the muddy and crater-riddle strip of land between the lines.

In each of the men, officer, NCO and soldiers alike, it was clear to see that, in war, soldiers often have more in common with their enemies than they do differences.

Eventually, one of the British Medical Corps boys produced a football from goodness knows where, and in a stunning feat of organisation, in which the Doctor was called upon to referee, a full eleven-a-side match sprung up almost out of nowhere, the game of course was Britain versus Germany.

The Doctor miraculously produced a whistle from his bottomless pockets and after the teams agreed on direction of play and possession, the whistle was blown and the game was away.

Harry and Lucy sat beside the strict captain as Germany took first possession, the ball soon skidding across the mud from player to player. Many times the ball would land in a puddle or a trench or even a foxhole, but each time, the men just laughed and the nearest one would go and retrieve it, no matter which trench.

As the match progressed the ball became gradually more waterlogged and each player, and the referee, became caked with layer after layer of mud, but still the game showed no signs of abating, cheers erupting from the Germans when, finally after half an hour, the Germans scored. 1-0.

After that another fifteen minutes saw the proud Britons equalise but the Germans kicked away again, when the Doctor blew his whistle for half time the Germans were up 2-1.

After a short break for drinks and removing mud from the eyes, the teams switched ends and it was once more unto the breech, mud flying this way and that as the game became more intense and the Brits equalised once again. 2-2.

The match devolved into a stalemate soon after that, much as the war on the Western Front would, neither team was able to beat the other's goalkeeper. The Doctor glanced down at his watch. 45 seconds remained, the Germans had the ball. A few slow passes and they gradually made their way down the muddy makeshift pitch. 25 seconds. They looked for the open opportunity, putting a couple of passes across the top of where the goal box would be. 5 seconds. And there it was, a young German private had managed to get free and onside near the goal and with two quick kicks, just milliseconds before the whistle and Germany were victorious.

After the game the teams packed up, all soaked to the bone and caked with mud, but they all shook each other's hands and returned to their own trenches after a few more minutes of jovial conversation.

Later that night, Harry, Lucy and the Doctor snuck away to Harry's TARDIS, the gunfire long since having resumed, the most famous game of football in history now seemingly forgotten. Forgotten, however was something that would never describe this game, and it would make its way into folklore, proof that sport transcends social and cultural barriers, and that even in war, people from different places and cultures are more alike than you may first believe.

Location: Buckingham Palace, Westminster, London, England, Earth
Time: August 1993 CE
Harry and Lucy had long since returned from their trip to World War I and were now finished with their homework, taking the opportunity to read quietly in a loveseat in Harry's expansive bedroom. While they usually sat side by side reading different books, today Lucy was leaning against Harry, who had her in a one-armed hug as she read Pride and Predjudice aloud.

They were interrupted by Harry's uncle Andrew entering the room. 'James, Lucy?' Andrew asked, looking at the two teens. 'Would it be possible for you to babysit Bea and Genie again? Sarah and I have to go to the state funeral of King Baudouin I of Belgium for Mum.' Andrew looked at the pair hopefully.

'Yes, I'm sure we can manage.' Lucy said with a smile.